A Matter of Time
by usa123
Summary: Emma threatens Lucy's life in order to get Wyatt's help with a mission. Will Wyatt have to give Emma what she wants, or will the team find a way to both stop Emma and save Lucy? Written for the Timeless Big Bang. No slash, no ships.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: The final day of the Timeless Big Bang is here! If you enjoyed any of the works over the last month, please 1) let your authors and artists know and 2)** **drop the mods a note of thanks on timelessbigbang . tumblr . com . They all worked incredibly hard to make this all happen for you!**

 **At some point today, there will also be art for this fic, created by the wonderful o** **livaraofrph (also on Tumblr). I can't wait to see how it turned out!**

 **Finally, per Big Bang rules, I will be posting all seven chapters of this fic at once. I understand the urge to keep reading but, if you could spare the time, I'd love to know what you thought about each of them. Thank you in advance!**

* * *

Emma Whitmore was frozen in the middle of a carpeted hallway, her raised fist inches away from an elaborately inlaid wooden door. An entire minute had passed but she still hadn't been able to actually make herself knock, her brain stuck in an endless loop of what could go wrong. Her whole life she'd prided herself in absolutes, only taking risks that were designed to succeed. Her new assignment was anything but and, if it didn't go as planned, her career was over.

And it all revolved around this conversation.

She took a deep breath, silently ran through her speech again, then knocked.

"Come in," a deep voice responded.

Emma twisted the handle, then stepped into the room. It was as ornate as the door, with a large wooden desk in front of a floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the Bay, massive built-in bookcases, and a thick plush carpet that probably cost more than her last MI paycheck.

A white-haired man sat behind the desk, his gaze focused intently on Emma. "Did you find it?" he demanded as soon as she had closed the door.

"Not yet sir. We've searched his house and office but found nothing. His financials reveal a monthly payment to a storage unit at Camp Pendleton, so we are going to search there next."

"And just how do you plan to get on base?"

"I have an idea but it requires use of your plane."

The man scowled but motioned for her to sit down. "Tell me more."

He was completely silent through her entire explanation, only nodding once at the end. "By when do you need it?"

"As soon as possible. We don't know when Moran's insurance is going to trigger."

"How do we know it hasn't already?"

"We don't," Emma said with an offhand shrug. "Right now, we're running under the assumption that there is some sort of periodic check-in and his information is released only if the check is missed. Since it's been thirty-one hours and we haven't heard anything, I would say his check-in is on a weekly cadence, if not monthly. It would save him from accidentally releasing it if there was an emergency of some sort."

"We need to assume the worst and wrap this up as quickly as possible," the white-haired man stated, rising slightly in his chair as if to emphasize the gravity of the situation. "Do you know what will happen if that information is released?"

"Of course, sir."

The man stared at her for a long moment and, knowing she was being evaluated, Emma met his gaze firmly enough to prove her capability, but not strong enough to dissuade him.

Finally, the man relaxed into his seat and reached for his phone. "Let me make a few calls."

* * *

If Wyatt had slept for more than fifteen hours in the last week, he might have heard the footsteps following him as he left Mason Industries. If the team hadn't gone on three consecutive grueling missions through the worst parts of history to stop Emma, he might have been able to fight back. If there was a B team that could have gone on even _one_ of the missions, Wyatt definitely would have been able to put the ex-military men down.

Today though, Wyatt was overworked, sleep-deprived, and starving for something that didn't have a questionable expiration date. His nerves more than a little frayed, he spun around at a soft clicking sound to find a dark-haired man wearing a blue suit standing at arm's length.

"We need you to come with us," the man said, his tone very clearly indicating this was an order, not a suggestion. To prove his point, he pushed aside the flap of his jacket to reveal a gun nestled in a side holster, the safety band unsnapped.

It didn't escape Wyatt's notice that he wasn't wearing a badge. "I think not," the soldier replied, his grip tightening on the duffel bag where his gun resided. Unfortunately, at this distance, there was no way he was unzipping the bag and unholstering his weapon before the other man got off a shot. So, Wyatt threw the bag at the man, high and to the left, while attacking low and to the right.

The man ducked under the duffel, simultaneously drawing his gun, but Wyatt smacked the inside of the man's wrist, sending the Glock flying from stunned fingers. The man cursed but recovered quickly, launching himself at Wyatt and sending the two crashing into the side of Wyatt's truck. The fight went on for another few minutes until Wyatt landed a right uppercut that sent the man's eyes rolling back into his head.

That was when he registered the second set of footsteps.

He tried to turn but it was too little, too late.

Pain exploded in his cheekbone, sending his head whipping around, as a rather impressive fireworks show flashed in his field of vision. His legs buckled and he barely had the wherewithal to keep his face from connecting with the asphalt. Then something smashed into his side and he collapsed to the ground, unable to breathe.

His training was screaming for him to move, to get up, to fight back, so, with great effort, he rolled away from the direction of the kick, desperately scanning the ground for his bag.

Then something cold pressed against his left shoulder blade, right behind his heart, and he froze. For a second, all he heard was his pulse thudding through his ears, before his brain kicked into high gear, trying desperately to come up with a plan.

He had just tensed his shoulders, ready to throw himself back and away, when a woman said, "Well, that didn't go as planned."

Recognizing the voice, Wyatt's response was anything but polite.

In the split second it took him to realize that might have been a bad idea, the gun barrel knocked against his head hard enough to cause him to see stars. When his vision cleared, Emma Whitmore was crouching down in front of him, her fingers inching toward his throbbing cheekbone. Wyatt flinched back before her hand could make contact, only as he was moving hoping that that wasn't going to merit him another hit over the head…or worse.

Thankfully, the gun stayed where it was and Emma pulled back her hand, splaying her fingers wide as if to show she meant no harm.

That gesture was about three months too late for Wyatt's liking. "What do you want?" he spat, with as much venom as he could muster.

"Your help."

Fear shot through his system—not for his own safety but that of Rufus and Lucy—and it took everything he had to keep it from playing over his face. As much as it pained him to admit it, he was the most expendable of the team, so if Emma needed his help for something, she'd definitely need Lucy, maybe even Rufus as well.

"Where are they?" he demanded, as steadily as he could manage, all the while scanning the area behind Emma, looking for any glimpse of his teammates.

"Safe. I don't need them."

"I don't believe you."

Emma just shrugged. "You're not in a position to do anything about it. Not with Henry's gun so close." Then she leaned forward, as if sharing a secret with him. "You _really_ want to listen to my proposition."

"I will _never_ help you."

Emma just smiled, which only ratcheted up Wyatt's concern, before she reached behind her and brought back…a Polaroid?

Wyatt hurriedly scanned the small photo, exhaling softly when he didn't recognize anyone in it: new teammates, family or otherwise. With that concern quelled, he allowed himself a more serious look. The Polaroid was new, judging by the lack of a sepia tint and the crisp corners, and depicted two men: one, tall and dark-haired with an angular face, standing over the other, who was lying on his side, eyes closed. The man on the ground was smaller and blonder and looked to be either sleeping or unconscious.

Since Emma was involved, Wyatt assumed it was the latter, especially since this photograph was obviously intended to be a leverage of sorts.

"The one on the left is Henry, Karl's replacement," Emma said, pulling Wyatt from his thoughts. "Not quite as handy with his weapons but his survival skills are off the chart."

"Thank you ma'am," a voice said from above Wyatt. The soldier didn't bother to try to look, not with the gun still in his back, but his curiosity was piqued about how Henry could be both here and in the image threatening someone.

He had just chalked that one up to 'time machine problems' when Emma spoke up yet again. "The one on the ground is Charles Spitzer," she stated with a finality that told Wyatt he was supposed to recognize the name. Unfortunately, he didn't, but he kept quiet until he could figure out if that was going to help or hinder Emma's cause.

She must have figured out it though since, a beat later, surprise flashed over her face. "You don't know who that is, do you?" she asked, eyes wide in almost perverse excitement. "Well, I suppose Lucy was going through a lot during your conversation in 1945."

Wyatt's instinct to protect surged and he'd lifted himself up a few inches before the barrel of the gun rapped against his shoulder blade in discouragement. "Leave her out of this," he growled, settling for throwing as much malice as he could into his icy glare.

Tsking softly, Emma just shook her head. "I can't Wyatt. Otherwise you'd never run my little errand."

She adjusted the photograph so her index finger was pointing to Spitzer's head and held it inches from Wyatt's face. "On April 14th, 2002, Charles Spitzer drives to Stanford to take his freshman daughter home for the weekend. This drive requires him to cross a bridge which, on that day, was covered with a large oil slick—"

She didn't have to continue. As soon as Emma had said the date, Wyatt knew Spitzer was the one who had rescued Lucy from her accident, and understood that Emma was obliquely threatening Lucy. Rage burned through him but he couldn't react, lest he prove Emma right about how far he would go to save his team.

Eventually the fire subsided, allowing his brain to function normally, Wyatt realized there was one large hole in Emma's plan.

"Unless you send a 16-year old back, you can't actually stop him from saving Lucy," he stated with as much bravado as he could muster, stalling while he fought to come up with a way to invalidate Emma's leverage.

The pilot's confident expression didn't so much as crack. "You know I don't have to be at the actual scene to keep it from happening. Thanks to the time machine, I can visit Spitzer at a more…impressionable…age."

She walked her finger up the Polaroid until it was pointing at Henry's head. "If you do not agree to help me, Henry will break young Spitzer's arm, maybe even dislocate his shoulder. Medicine is so… _unpredictable_ back then; things don't always heal correctly. It won't affect his job or his life but it should be able to keep him from being able to pull a certain sophomore from a sinking vehicle."

"You can't guarantee that," Wyatt shot back, more out of disbelief than real objection. It was unusual how imprecise Emma's plan was, not at all like the ones she'd put into motion over the last few jumps through time…which meant there was bound to be a way to both not give Emma what she wanted and to save Spitzer.

Even as he considered that though, the churning gears in Wyatt's brain were slowing to a halt, all settled on the same verdict: despite how terrible the possibility of working for Emma was, he was going to do what she asked to save Lucy's life—there were too many variables in play to make another decision. He'd just work one problem at a time and hope that sometime between now and actually doing whatever she wanted him to do, he could find a way to _not_ actually do what she wanted him to do.

That whole thought process had taken only a split second and, when he refocused, Emma had just started speaking again. "True," she said, shifting her weight back onto her heels, "but do you really want to bet Lucy's life on it?"

From the look on her face, Emma knew what his answer was going to be.

"I need a guarantee you won't hurt Spitzer or the rest of my team while I'm working for you," replied Wyatt, ignoring the way his stomach clenched at those last few words.

"You don't get to make the demands," Emma snapped, her eyes flashing. After a moment though, she shrugged, the edges in her posture slackening. "But I want our adventure to go smoothly so..." She held up her hand like she was taking an oath in court. "I promise not to hurt Spitzer, Rufus or Lucy while you're working for me," she recited with almost mechanical inflection.

Wyatt wasn't fond of the qualification but he knew it was the best he was going to get in his current situation. He sighed, then held up his hands. "What do you need from me?"


	2. Chapter 2

Emma made a motion with her hand and the gun disappeared from Wyatt's back.

As he pushed himself upright, he felt something shift in his ear canal and it took him a split second to remember that it was one of the earpieces Rufus had made to allow the team to stay connected during missions. However, since more than one incident had happened to a member of the Time Team outside of Mason Industries, they'd been instructed to wear the ear buds at least on the way home from a mission but preferably any time they left the house. Fortunately, they weren't on all the time (which would be awkward) and were activated with a few movements of the jaw. For the first time since Emma had shown up, Wyatt had hope that he might in fact be able to pull this off—with help from his team, of course.

"First things first," Emma said once they were both standing. "Do you have your Common Access Card?"

Wyatt just nodded, not wanting to test Emma by lying so early; he was going to need all his objections for when he actually had a plan.

"Show it to me."

Wyatt pulled out his wallet, flipped it open to his military ID. Given the unpredictability of his job, he'd taken to keeping his ID in his wallet at all times, in case he ever needed to get on base or access information for a non-MI op.

Emma nodded then turned on her heel and headed toward where the man Wyatt had knocked out was still lying on the ground, unconscious.

"Get him up," she told Henry.

She'd taken barely another step before Henry asked, "What about him?" and jabbed his gun into Wyatt's ribs for emphasis.

"Wyatt's not going anywhere," Emma said, looking at them over her shoulder. "Isn't that right?"

"No ma'am," Wyatt ground out, standing silently off to the side while Henry woke up his partner. He did notice that Emma had gathered the scattered weapons and his duffel bag before Henry had holstered his Glock, so maybe she wasn't as trusting as her previous statement led him to believe. That was good, her not trusting him entirely; it leveled out the playing field a bit.

"Follow me," Emma commanded once the second man was upright, then lead the way to a black SUV, which starkly contrasted the small, fuel-efficient cars in the rest of the lot (Wyatt's own gas-guzzler exempt). When she reached the car, Emma pulled open the passengers' door, popped open the center console then turned around and held out her hand. "Phone please."

Wyatt handed it over without argument, again choosing his battles. Emma leaned back slightly, dropped his phone into the console, then closed and locked it.

"It's a miniature Faraday cage," she explained, not that Wyatt had indicated any interest in it at all. "One of Connor's better inventions."

Then she gestured toward the side of the car. "We're going to have to pat you down."

Without warning, a large hand smashed into Wyatt's upper back, sending him rocking forward. He caught himself against the side of the SUV, elbows locked out, and was forced to readjust his weight as someone kicked his feet apart. "You could just ask," he snapped.

"Ease up, Henry," the Rittenhouse agent said absently, her attention focused on something inside the car.

He heard Henry snort not far from his left ear as the man began running his hands up and down Wyatt's arms and legs.

"Where is the parking lot security?" Wyatt asked, forcing himself not to react to Henry's unwelcome contact.

"Not that it should concern you, but they're dealing with an issue on the other side of the building." Emma paused to look at her watch. "But you're right. We should speed this up a little."

Henry ran his hand around Wyatt's waist one more time, obviously checking for a wire, before shaking his head at Emma.

The Rittenhouse agent nodded then reached back into the car and pulled out a small black box. "Just one more thing, Wyatt," she said, holding out the box out to Henry.

Wyatt immediately recognized the device as a signal detector, which meant he was going to find out very soon if Rufus had been telling the truth about the comms being able to turn themselves " _off_ off". If they emitted even the smallest signal, Emma would discover the ear bud, which Wyatt desperately needed if he wanted to both save Spitzer and not give Emma what she wanted.

He wasn't much of a praying man in recent years but, as Henry inched closer with the device, he sent a silent plea to anyone who was listening that Rufus' science was as good as he thought.

Henry started at Wyatt's waist, obviously still looking for a wire, then dragged the signal detector up and down his body. Despite his heart pounding against his rib cage, Wyatt forced himself to keep breathing normally, in order to not give the ear bud away.

After a painfully long minute, Henry clicked off the device. "He's clean," Henry reported as he handed it back to Emma.

"Good." Emma again reached into the car, this time popping open the door to the backseat. "Now get in."

* * *

As the SUV pulled out on the main road, Wyatt split his time between figuring out where they were going and beginning to flesh out his plan. Step number one was getting a hold of his team. It was risky and put them in a bad situation if this didn't work out as planned, but Wyatt was without other options. If Emma needed his CAC, she must want to get on a base or another secure facility. Working under the assumption she was acting on Rittenhouse's orders—mostly because of her unscheduled trip with the Mothership—whatever she needed would obviously help their cause. Which was exactly why he couldn't give her whatever she needed on base. But, in order to do that, he needed a guarantee that Spitzer, and by proxy Lucy, were safe, which was where his teammates would come in—preferably Rufus, given that Lucy had enough to deal with in her life right now, but at this point, Wyatt couldn't be picky.

His mind made up, Wyatt cupped the side of his face, palpating it like he was determining how bad the wound to his cheek was. In reality, he was working his jaw to activate the earbud, hoping someone still had theirs in. He heard a soft click then almost immediately after that, blaring music. The song changed but the person on the other side of the comm—mostly likely Rufus if Wyatt had to guess on the music choice alone—made no vocal response.

"So what's the plan, Emma?" Wyatt said, as casually as possible.

 _"What the…Wyatt, your comm's on,"_ Rufus said, sounding mildly frustrated. _"Guess it needs another upgrade_ — _"_

"I mean, I assume you want to get on base somewhere," Wyatt continued. "That's why you need my CAC."

"Very good." Emma said, without looking back over her shoulder. From his current vantage point against the window, Wyatt could see her scrolling through a tablet, though the sun obstructed his view of the contents.

 _"Wait, is that Emma?"_ Rufus asked. Then the music stopped completely, followed by a wild screech of tires. _"Wyatt, are you okay? Clear your throat if you're with Emma."_

If Wyatt could have rolled his eyes without giving something away, he would have. Him clearing his throat in the silent car would be a dead giveaway to Emma that something is up.

 _"Wyatt? Wyatt, talk to me!"_

Before the soldier could come up with a way to clue Rufus in, Emma turned around and handed the tablet over her shoulder, allowing Wyatt to see a Google Earth's view of the Camp Pendleton Self-Storage lockers. "I need you to get me the contents of a locker."

 _"Shit, that is Emma. Which means you can't talk to me. Okay, I'm here, I'm listening, just let me know what you need when you can."_

"That's it? Just get into Pendleton and empty out a self-storage unit?" Wyatt repeated the task so one, Rufus could hear, but two, because the simplicity of it caught him off-guard. He had been expecting something much more intensive that required his knowledge of the base or his clearance. Getting into Pendleton Self-Storage (ignoring he wasn't the rightful owner of the unit) wasn't terribly difficult, and was something Emma could have achieved it on her own with a fake set of visitor's papers submitted four days in advance. She could have even coerced someone currently on base into picking her up at the gate, which left Wyatt wondering why she specifically needed him.

Emma nodded. "You think you can handle that? For Lucy's sake?"

 _"She did_ not _—don't worry Wyatt, I'm checking on Lucy."_

In the wake of finding out her mother was Rittenhouse, Lucy was staying with Jiya. She'd refused both Wyatt and Rufus' offers to stay with them, citing that Wyatt's place was really too small for two, and that she didn't want to endanger Rufus' family. Jiya hadn't taken no for an answer and had all but dragged Lucy into her apartment.

Wyatt hadn't been fond of that plan, worried about what would happen if Rittenhouse decided to come for her, but Lucy had attempted to convince him that they wouldn't harm her because they needed her to fulfill her destiny. It had been a weak argument at best but Wyatt had recognized that Lucy had wanted a little space to figure things out, away from the people she spent a majority of her days with. That combined with the rotating guard Mason had stationed at the apartment, all of whom had been thoroughly vetted by Wyatt, and Jiya's shocking proficiency with a .22 allowed him to concede to the argument.

Today though, he was exceedingly happy Lucy wasn't going to be on her own. Rufus would have very little trouble getting hold of either Jiya or the security team, assuming Emma was telling the truth.

"Wyatt?" Emma's voice snapped him back to reality. He looked up to find her almost completely turned around in her seat and squinting back at him. "Henry, I swear if you gave him a concussion—"

"I'm fine, Emma," Wyatt interjected. "Whose locker is it?"

"You don't need to know."

"It's tactical information."

Emma stared at him for a moment then nodded slowly. "When we're in the air."

Rufus swore loudly. _"The comms aren't going to work on the plane."_

Once again, Wyatt fought back the urge to roll his eyes. He'd figured as much, which meant he only had a small window of time to get something out of Emma that Rufus could use while they were in the air.

"How are we—"

"No more questions," Emma snapped.

It was too early in the day for Wyatt to keep pressing his luck so outwardly he nodded, then leaned his head back against the rest, pretending to be relaxed. Internally though, he was scowling and every nerve in his body was on fire with suppressed tension.

In his ear, he heard Rufus talking hurriedly to Jiya and had to strain to pick up on the conversation over some sort of static interference. _"Uh-huh, right, great. Keep her there. Don't say anything."_ Then the line cleared up just in time for Rufus to say, _"She's okay, Wyatt. She's at Jiya's."_

Just then, Wyatt heard another click. _"What's going on?"_ Lucy demanded.

 _"Nothing."_ Rufus was quick to say. _"It's nothing. Nothing at all. Everything's fine."_

Wyatt internally groaned at the less than convincing dialogue and began coming to terms with the fact that Lucy was involved now whether he wanted it or not. At this point, it would be safer to have her work _with_ Rufus, instead of pushing her away to investigate on her own. Hopefully, the pilot came to the same conclusion because Wyatt wasn't in a position to vocalize his opinion.

 _"If it involves me or my family, I deserve to know,"_ Lucy continued, her voice steely hard even over the comms.

Rufus grumbled something incoherent before reluctantly agreeing. _"You'd better come over to my place. Wyatt's in trouble."_


	3. Chapter 3

Twenty minutes later, Lucy was sitting in Rufus' office, staring at a whiteboard propped up in the middle of the room. There were three bullet points on the board.

 **· Emma**

 **· Self-storage unit at Pendleton**

 **· Lucy hostage?**

"That's all he told you?" the historian queried, squinting at the board as if that would provide additional clarity.

"We didn't exactly have time to play twenty questions," Rufus huffed as he pushed his chair away from his computer, which was running some sort of program.

"And right after that, he turned his comm off?"

"Correct."

"Can you trace it?"

Rufus shot Lucy an unamused look then gestured back to his computer. "His last few pings were still in the Bay Area. I'm working on narrowing it down now."

"There are no plane tickets with Wyatt or Emma's name on them for any airport in a fifty mile radius, leaving in the next few hours," Jiya chimed in from a second bank of computers. Upon hearing Wyatt was in trouble, she had refused to be left behind and had stolen Lucy's keys until the historian agreed to bring her along. It was turning out to be for the best though since there were now two very computer-savvy people getting information Lucy would otherwise have no idea how to access. "There are a few private flights heading out though, no passengers listed."

"Wyatt didn't mention anything specific about flying," Lucy said. "I mean, they most likely are, but in case she wants to stay under the radar…"

Jiya sent Lucy a soft smile. "I'll check trains and rental cars," she said as she returned to her keyboard.

Lucy stared at the board again, her eyes focusing on the third item. She'd be lying if she said she didn't know what event Emma would probably try to change. However, to this day, it was still frightening to her. Before Wyatt, she hadn't spoken about it to anyone who wasn't her mother, Amy or the psychologist her mother had made her see when her grades had suffered that semester.

"Anything about the storage unit?" Lucy deflected before she could get caught in the downward spiral that was her accident. As she looked over at Rufus' station, she happened to see the Mason Industries' logo pass by more than once onscreen. "You're hacking into Mason's servers?"

"I won't tell if you don't," Rufus said without looking away from the computer.

"What are you trying to access?"

"Ideally, a list of people who have self-storage units at Pendleton. Realistically, probably nothing. It depends how much power Mason's systems really have outside the lab."

Lucy nodded, more to the first statement than the second. If they had such a list, they could run background checks and find out which unit Emma was most likely after.

There was something about that that seemed odd to Lucy though. With all her skills, Emma should have easily been able to perform the same hacks as Rufus and Jiya. Meaning if she needed Wyatt, the contents of the unit weren't something she could get online. But there also had to be a reason she couldn't get them herself.

An idea was percolating in the back of Lucy's brain, just formed enough to niggling but not enough to be helpful. She tried to think of other things, to let her Zeigarnik effect take hold, but her brain wouldn't let go of the idea. So, she employed the solution she'd learned from her mother at a young age: write it down. It stung a little, in the context of her mother's big revelation, but Lucy couldn't focus on that now. Wyatt needed them.

Lucy walked over to the whiteboard, wrote 'contents of the unit' on right and underlined it. "Why would Emma need Wyatt to get the storage unit for her?" Lucy asked.

She hadn't really expected an answer from anyone, as Rufus and Jiya were busy with their own work, but to her surprise, Jiya responded, "Because she can't get on base."

Lucy wrote it down for posterity and did her due diligence by considering it, even though that concept didn't sit right with her. "She's got all of Rittenhouse behind her though. I'm sure one of them could make her a badge that would get her through."

The typing in the room trailed down to a steady drone instead of a forceful barrage. "What if it's because she's not actually in the army?" Rufus offered. "She'd be a visitor?"

Lucy wrote down 'badge but visitor' and stared at it for a second. Then she pulled out her phone and looked up the Pendleton Self-Storage website. "According to this, access to the self-storage unit is done with a pin. So all the badge has to do is get her on base. I'm sure Rittenhouse could do at least that much."

"What else does that leave us with?" she asked, looking expectantly between Rufus and Jiya.

"Timing," Jiya said after a moment. She stood up with a wince, grabbed a green marker and scribbled down her suggestion. "If the rent isn't paid, the unit could be up for auction."

"But if that's true, what's to stop Emma from just buying the unit?" Rufus asked, on his feet as well.

In that second, Lucy's idea clicked. "Because whatever is in the storage unit is time-sensitive." She circled the header of the column twice for emphasis. "Emma needs Wyatt to get whatever is in the storage unit before it's released to the public."

There was another moment of silence in the room while its occupants digested that idea.

"Are we sure the unit is up for auction?" Rufus finally asked.

"No," Lucy said, "but if the owner was still alive, then Emma could just use the owner to get it…right?"

Rufus shrugged. "Makes sense to me."

Lucy stared at the right-side of the board for another minute, then quickly capped the marker as the harsh smell reached her nose.

She heard typing again and looked over her shoulder to see Jiya back at her temporary workstation. "Lucy's right. There's an online auction at Pendleton next week." She leaned forward and quickly scanned the page. "The site doesn't list the contents though. Only says they'll be shown an hour before bidding starts."

Lucy dropped back into the armchair and stared at the board again. Her revelation wasn't as monumental as it was a minute ago, as more questions had taken its place in her brain. "So what do we do?"

"Well we aren't going to beat Emma and Wyatt to San Diego to get the contents ourselves so…" Rufus trailed off with a full-body shrug.

"Whatever's in there must be pretty important if Emma's going through all this trouble to get it," Jiya said slowly. "If we can figure out what unit it is, maybe we can figure out what's in it. And if we can do that, then maybe Wyatt doesn't have to give it over to Emma."

"He will until he knows Lucy is safe," Rufus countered. He slid in his rolling chair and wrote 'figure out who owns the box and what's in it' on the board below Lucy's column. "So step two is figuring out what leverage Emma has on Lucy. Since she's here now and the future is unpredictable, I'd say it's something in her past she's trying to change—"

"Maybe how her parents met? Keep her from being born?" Jiya suggested, then winced again. "Sorry Lucy."

But the historian wasn't really listening, lost in the events of the accident and the blur that was the next week.

Suddenly there was a hand on her shoulder, startling her out of her daze. "Lucy?" Jiya asked kindly, though her eyes were wide with concern.

Lucy's stomach clenched painfully but, before she could spiral again, she forced the words out of her mouth: "I think I know what it is, what Emma wants to change."

All background noise in the room ceased and she looked away from the board to find the techs staring at her expectantly.

Before she lost her courage, Lucy quickly recited the story of how she almost drowned. "I never caught his name, what he looked like really. I must have seen him but I don't remember much of that day. He waited until the ambulance got here, the paramedics said, then took off."

"Who else knows about your accident?" Rufus asked.

"My mom…Amy…anyone who was there that day. Wyatt too, since Germany, but I'm not sure that's helpful."

"Well we can't exactly call up your mom," Rufus deadpanned as he returned to his computer. "Did they open a report of some kind?"

Lucy shrugged. "I'm not sure. I really don't remember much from that day."

Jiya tightened her grip on Lucy's shoulder in a reassuring gesture, then rolled back over to her monitor and began hurriedly typing again. "We're on it, Lucy. Don't worry."

Suddenly a hand was tapping the back of hers. "We'll figure this out, Lucy," Rufus said as he too returned to his station. "I promise."

"I know," Lucy said, slowly letting out her exhale through clenched teeth. "I just…I can't compete with all this." She motioned to the screens in front of her, trying to emphasize the tech and her inability to contribute to the case on that front.

Suddenly Jiya was standing and pointing at one of her many monitors. "I can move that to the next terminal if you want. You can track the pings and figure out where Wyatt is."

"Or you try to get a hold of your file," Rufus suggested, "see if there were any details about who brought you in."

The second option sounded much more Lucy's speed. "Jiya, thanks, but I think I'll be of more help with the accident report."

"No problem," the female tech said as she sat back down and continued working.

"Here," Rufus pulled out an extra keyboard, hooked it into a blank monitor, and turned on a previously abandoned CPU. "Fire away," he said, gesturing to the free computer chair with a flourish.

Lucy smiled gratefully then sat down and got to work.

* * *

To keep Emma from getting suspicious, Wyatt had turned off the comm after hearing Lucy was safe. Once he realized where they were heading though, he propped his head against his hand, his elbow against the window, and moved his jaw in order to turn the ear bud back on.

He only heard the clacking of keyboards on the other end of the comms, no dialogue.

"So, you have a private plane?" he asked with obviously feigned interest.

 _"He's back!"_ Rufus exclaimed. _"And he confirmed our private plane theory."_

Well crap. That was a waste of a question to Emma.

"No. I do not," Emma replied, without taking her eyes off her tablet.

But now Wyatt was sold into asking about the plane, so he continued his line of questioning, for no other reason than to prove nothing was awry. "Then whose is it? Friend, boyfriend, boss?" Wyatt paused briefly then added, "All three?"

Emma's expression remained stoic. "No more talking."

 _"C'mon Wyatt, you have to do better than that. What does Emma have on Lucy? What does she want with the storage unit?"_

Wyatt shrugged for Emma's benefit then fell silent, as if obeying her instruction. In reality, he was now trying to figure out how to work one of Rufus' questions into a conversation that felt natural, and wouldn't get anyone killed. Himself included.

After a few moments, he had it.

"So how's this gonna work? I give you the contents of the locker, you go back in time and do what exactly? Tell Henry not to main Charles Spitzer?"

 _"Charles Spitzer,"_ Rufus said. _"On it."_

Then Lucy muttered something about _"Could be."_

Good, so they were on the same page about Emma wanting to make Lucy's accident fatal; one less question he had to try to work into conversation with Emma.

"That's none of your business," the female pilot replied. Then she turned around in her seat so she could look directly at Wyatt, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. "You're awfully chatty all of the sudden."

Wyatt held up his hands in mock surrender. "Just trying to make sure everyone is going to be okay when this is all said and done."

Wyatt thought he saw her fingers twitch toward the signal detector which was currently residing in the open glovebox but instead Emma turned to stare at him. Wyatt met her gaze evenly but didn't challenge it and, after a long few moments, Emma was the first to look away.

"You get me the contents of the storage locker and Lucy Preston lives," she said. "Don't speak again."

Wyatt nodded then settled back in his seat, despite every fiber in his body being tensed for action. He knew of eight different ways to forcefully stop the car, to keep them from reaching the airfield, but he couldn't do any of them, not until he could keep Emma from hurting Spitzer.

So he sat there, in silence, while the SUV continued down the highway, using the time to glean any helpful information from Henry, Emma or the suited man, who still hadn't said anything after their less than stellar introduction.

It wasn't much but the recon was comforting—it gave him some semblance of control over the situation where he clearly had none—so he sat back and observed, all the way to the airstrip.


	4. Chapter 4

"Anything?" Lucy asked impatiently as she paced up and down Rufus' office.

"Lots of Charles Spitzer's here. Give me a second," Jiya replied, not looking up from the search results she was paging through.

Lucy sat back at her computer and tried to keep reviewing the hospital records from that night, but she wasn't really absorbing the words she was reading and had to go back over each page more than once until she understood what it actually said.

Finally, Jiya spoke up again. "Filtering out those who weren't in CA in 2002 and we have…This one lived in Stockton." She was quiet for a beat while her eyes scanned the screen. "His daughter went to Stanford, graduated in 2005. So it's possible he's the guy. Not much else in his file besides a few parking tickets." Then she paused. "He has a number listed. We could call him, see what he remembers?"

"I'll do it," Lucy volunteered. "If he turns out to be the man who saved me, I owe him a huge thank you anyway."

Jiya nodded then tapped for a second on her keyboard. Lucy's phone chirped not long after.

"I just sent you his number," she said with a small smile.

Lucy nodded her thanks then sat back down in the arm chair, phone held out in front of her. The noises in the background trailed to a stop and she looked back up to find Jiya and Rufus staring at her.

That wasn't going to work. She was going to have enough trouble talking to Spitzer semi-calmly as is. "Um, is there somewhere more private I can go?" she asked.

Rufus immediately nodded. "Sure, there's a study two doors down on the right."

"Thanks," Lucy said as she rose to her feet.

She had only made it to the doorway when Rufus called, "Hold up." She looked over her shoulder to see him digging through one desk's drawers.

"Here is it," he muttered, pulling out a picture frame and brushing off the dust with his palm. "See if he remembers either of them."

At first, the light streaming in from the window reflected off the glass, keeping Lucy from seeing who was in the picture. Then she tilted her head slightly to counteract the glare and saw Rufus, Emma and Anthony standing side-by-side, arms around each other's shoulders, with a badly blurred out Mothership in the background. All were beaming.

Lucy looked uncertainly at Rufus, whose face clouded in wistful emotion before he looked up at her. "It was a long time ago," he said softly. Then he held out the picture and, in a much steadier voice, said, "Ask Spitzer if he remembers either of them. It's possible Rittenhouse has had this leverage for a while now."

The thought hadn't even occurred to Lucy until Rufus had said something but, within the second, an anger rolled through her, surprising even her by its ferocity. It took everything she had to keep it from breaking free. She'd allow herself to fully process the implications of that statement after Wyatt was back and Spitzer was safe.

Her anger was still far too close to the surface for her to speak, so she just nodded gratefully at Jiya and Rufus then left the room, picture frame in tow.

As her footsteps disappeared down the hall, Rufus slid back over to his computer but, instead of resuming typing, he stared silently at the monitor. "You know what's bothering me?" he asked after a pause.

"Our mountain of things that need to be looked up and a finite limit on our available processing power?"

"Well yes, but mostly how did Emma jump back without us knowing?"

"Maybe they jumped there on the way back from one of her other stops. If it was fast enough, we might not have seen it." Then Jiya broke off so quickly Rufus looked over to make sure she wasn't having another episode. "That or they're getting better at cloaking their jumps," she added with a preemptive wince.

Having come to the same conclusion, Rufus felt his stomach drop somewhere into the vicinity of his knees.

"We don't know exactly what Emma showed Wyatt," Jiya ventured after a moment. "Is it possible it's old leverage, like you said?"

"It could be. But that means they knew Flynn was going to steal the Mothership, that Mason was going to hire Lucy, and a whole bunch of other equally terrifying thoughts." Rufus scrubbed his hands up and down his face vigorously, as if that would somehow jar loose an idea.

No such luck. "I think we're best off running security checks, seeing if we can find something wrong at MI," he finally said. "If they were hacked, maybe we can trace it back and get something about the hacker's current location. Maybe it can even lead us to Emma."

He looked up to find Jiya staring at him. "It's a long-shot I know," he continued hurriedly, "but I think it's our best option."

"I think so too," she said, shooting him a warm smile. "We should probably call Mason though. Get IT working on it."

Rufus pulled out his phone. "Let me know if you find anything in the meantime?"

She nodded absently, already buried in the initial results of the scan. Rufus kissed the side of her head as he rolled his chair into the corner and dialed his boss.

* * *

Wyatt thought the gate check at the airfield would slow them down, possibly allowing him a quick conversation with his team. His plan however was foiled when the guard waved them through, requiring only a quick look at Emma for validation.

Once they'd parked off the runway, Henry and the other unnamed man made a big show of examining their weapons.

"This is unnecessary," Emma said, laying a hand on Henry's shoulder while turning to look at Wyatt. "He'll behave."

Wyatt scowled at her, which only served to make Emma smile wider.

"It's time to get out," she said and the second guard did, coming around to Wyatt's side and waiting for the soldier to follow. Once Wyatt was out of the SUV, the second guard hung around just long enough to purposefully adjust his shoulder holster before heading off for the nondescript plane on the other side of the tarmac.

The second Wyatt took in the lack of other humans on the strip and the wide open space between the SUV and the plane, his training kicked into high gear, evaluating all possible escape options and selecting the one with the best chance of survival. Wyatt filed the result away but didn't act on it, knowing he couldn't do anything rash until he was sure Lucy was safe.

"Follow him," Emma instructed from inside the car, still looking at the tablet in Henry's lap. "We'll be right there."

On the other side of the tarmac, the plane's propellers began to spin and Wyatt welcomed the diversion, pretending to cover his ears from the noise. Secretly though, he was activating the comms, knowing the propellers would let his team know he was back online.

 _"He's back,"_ Rufus stated a beat later. _"What do we have for him?"_

 _"Spitzer is alive,"_ Jiya said. Wyatt wasted half a second being concerned that Jiya was now involved in all this before she started speaking again, and he was forced to focus intently to hear her words over the buzz of the propellers. _"As best we can tell, someone interfered—"_

The rest of Jiya's sentence was lost as the propellers hit full speed.

 _"—1973,"_ the female tech shouted, but she was still barely audible over the ambient noise.

 _"He doesn't know who knocked him out,"_ Lucy continued. _"All his affects were on him when he came to. Doesn't remember who hit him."_

"Does he remember what time?" Wyatt asked after checking that the second guard was far enough out of earshot.

 _"Early. Maybe ten. He thought he was out for about half an hour."_

By now, Wyatt was practically at the foot of the ramp. He looked up, saw the second man at the top of the stairs and buried his head into his shoulder, like the wind from the propellers was too much for him to handle. "You guys should go back," Wyatt said as loudly as he dared. "Stop Henry from injuring Spitzer."

 _"Can't,"_ Rufus spoke up. " _It's too fine a timeline. We overshoot it and we lose our ability to stop Emma."_

As much as Wyatt wanted to press, he was running out of viable stairs. "I'm getting on the plane," Wyatt hissed, covering the sound in a harsh cough when he was in range of the second guard.

 _"Yeah we know,"_ Rufus said before he continued, _"But if Emma went back, there's a log in the Mothership. If we can get that, we can have the right time."_

Wyatt had now reached the top step so he couldn't do or say anything. He just ducked his head slightly and stepped onto the plane, fighting to keep his jaw from dropping at the opulent interior. It was nicer that most of the fully-furnished apartments he'd lived in.

Wyatt heard footsteps on the grated staircase behind him and stepped out of the opening, more out of defensive instinct than politeness.

"Ever been on a private plane?" Emma asked, coming to stand next to him.

"No." With that, Wyatt dropped into the armchair closest to the back exit then spun around so his back was to the side of the plane. Emma followed his lead, sitting on the leather couch directly across from him, while Henry and the second man disappeared behind the wooden divider that split the main area of the plane into two.

The Rittenhouse agent waited until the plane had taken off before handing over the tablet in her lap. "You'll be bringing me the contents of Charlie Moran's unit. A brief background is loaded on the tablet, as well as blueprints of the storage unit. The plane is WiFi capable should you need more information but Brock will be monitoring the pages you visit."

Then she stood and walked to the middle section of the plane. Brock, the suited guard, immediately switched with her, taking the chair on the other side of the aisle from Wyatt but before the divider. He didn't reach for any of the entertainment options on the table and instead stared directly at Wyatt.

"Are you going to watch me the whole time?" the soldier asked, instantly uncomfortable.

"I suggest you get to work," the guard said by way of reply. "Our flight isn't that long."

As much as Wyatt hated to admit it, there was a certain amount of truth in that statement so he buckled in, clicked on the tablet, and began to examine the material Emma had left him.

* * *

"There has to be something!" Jiya scowled, angrily punching the tab key to switch open windows.

Rufus slid over to her and scanned the results. "You still didn't find anything?"

"No. The linked CPU says the Mothership has been in the present since you got back, which means Emma's leverage has to be old."

"Is it possible they hacked the connection?"

"Sure, but then we'd have differing results from the negative-mass kinetic energy trail. That also puts the Mothership still in the Bay Area."

"Can we hack the Mothership?" Rufus asked. "Get their onboard logs?"

Jiya turned to look at him, pure disappointment on her face. "Gee, why didn't I think of that?" Then she frowned at him. "Don't you think we've been trying that from day one!?"

Rufus held up his hands in surrender. "I'm sorry. But you know I had to ask." He was quiet for a moment, thinking of other ways to track where the Mothership had been. He heard typing again and looked over at Jiya to see her scowling at her monitor.

"Did you recompile my program?" she asked, glancing over at him.

Rufus shook his head. "Why?"

"It was last modified yesterday at 8 PM. I didn't rebuild the executable and no one but you has access to my private server." Her frown deepened as she kicked off another 'Make' command. "We'll know for sure in hour," she said. "Anything from Mason's side?"

Rufus checked his phone and, upon finding no messages, shook his head. "I'll give him another call."

"What happens in an hour?" Lucy asked from the other side of the room. She had volunteered to go through online records on various auction sites and see if she could find out which units were being auctioned off next week, in hopes it would give them more details about who owned it, and transitively, why Emma would want it.

"We'll know if we—well not _we_ but Mason Industries—were hacked."

"Really?" Lucy asked, quickly crossing the distance to where Jiya was sitting. "How?"

"I wrote a tool that collates the output from the Mothership's CPU and the energy trail onto one screen. Makes explaining and monitoring things easier. That's what we've been using to say that the Mothership hasn't left the Bay Area since you all got back." Jiya pulled up a second terminal, typed a quick command and a listing of the directory's files appeared onscreen. "Without getting into the details, that's the executable," she said, pointing to the bottom-most line. "And if you check the date, it says it's been updated recently."

Then she turned to face Lucy. "I haven't rebuilt it lately because…" she paused for a moment, considering her audience, then shook her head. "Long story short, from building to seeing first results can take up to an hour, for a lot of complicated reasons. Rufus is the only other person who has permission to update the executable. Anyone on the team can use it to get the results, but no one but the two of us can actually make the final build."

"So you're thinking someone replaced the executable, which is feeding you false information?"

Jiya shrugged. "I don't know. Won't until it's done building and running. But it would explain a lot about how Emma has that leverage without leaving the present."

"Is there any way to know faster?" Lucy asked hopefully.

Jiya shook her head. "An hour is the fastest we could get it down to."

Now it was Lucy's turn to scowl as she digested that information. By the time she was ready to formulate a question, Rufus had walked back over.

"The security team hasn't found anything. Mason says to let him know what your program turns up."

"Is there anything else we do the meantime?" Lucy asked. "Another way to identify the hacker?"

Shaking his head, Rufus sat back down at his station and tapped the spacebar to wake up his machine. "Until Jiya or Mason finds something, the best we can do is hope Emma and Wyatt don't take the Mothership out. We might not be able to track it if they do."


	5. Chapter 5

Halfway into the flight, Wyatt had read the materials Emma had provided three times. The tablet had come preloaded with a blueprint of Camp Pendleton Self-Storage and a dossier on Charlie Moran, the owner of storage unit #170.

Moran had been an army investigator for thirty years until his retirement in 2007. His military file was heavily redacted, hinting he'd been involved in a lot of classified operations, any one of which might be potentially damaging to the structure of America as they knew it. Even after his retirement, he continued anonymously paying each month for a storage unit at Pendleton. There were no receipts, no check carbon copies, just a scan of an envelope full of bills paperclipped to a note, reading just "170". There was also a series of photos from what looked like a home office, including close-ups of a computer set-up on a desk.

What the file was desperately lacking was any information about security, sweeps, access codes, key cards, anything and everything Moran might have used to physically access his storage locker. This meant Wyatt was pretty much on his own for getting into the locker itself after he got on base.

There also wasn't any information about what the locker contained, which was curious to Wyatt on both a personal and tactical level. If Emma wanted whatever was in the locker, given the fact she definitely didn't own this jet herself, it had to be an errand for someone in Rittenhouse, which meant that whatever Moran was hiding was potentially threatening to the organization. While Emma could have redacted the information about the contents of the locker, it didn't make sense to hide that information from him since he was going to see the locker soon anyway. Plus, it put him at a tactical disadvantage since, if whatever was in the locker was large, he might not have the equipment to get whatever it was off base.

Which brought to mind another query.

"Has there been any attempt to break into the locker before?" Wyatt asked without preamble, not giving Brock an opportunity to object to his question.

The man scowled over at him but did eventually reply, "Not pertinent."

"Yes it is. If you've tried before, there could be extra security, extra identification checks. I could get flagged for even mentioning Moran's name when I get there, because I don't have a pin to get in otherwise."

Brock considered that for a long moment. "No. No previous attempt," he finally said.

 _"Why not?"_ was the next logical question but Wyatt didn't have to be as smart as Lucy to know he wasn't going to get that question answered. Instead, he just nodded and returned to the dossier, his mind whirling as it processed this new information. There was only one reason Wyatt could think of that a previous attempt hadn't been made; the contents of the locker had to be something damaging about Rittenhouse or one of its members that Moran had been holding as leverage. For some reason, they hadn't tried to steal it back before, so what had happened that they felt safe doing it now?

"Can I ask about the timing?"

The man shook his head.

"Look, if something major happened that wasn't you guys trying to break in, it could still affect the normal security."

"Moran is dead."

Wyatt blinked, caught off-guard by the direct answer.

"And _when_ was someone going to tell me that?" he asked, recovering quickly.

"You know it now."

That explained a lot about Emma's plan. She was trying to keep Moran's leverage from being exposed to the public either by Moran's family emptying out his locker or it being auctioned off since he had only a distant relative listed as his next-of-kin.

But that revelation also concerned Wyatt; Emma was handicapping him by not sharing this information. He couldn't make a decent plan without knowing all the pertinent information.

"Any other bombshells you're keeping from me?"

The man shook his head then picked up a magazine. He didn't actually read it, just held it open in front of his face while he continued to watch Wyatt.

After a second, Wyatt returned to his tablet and began trying to put together a plan. Since Emma wasn't able to get on base, Wyatt would have unmonitored time inside Pendleton to communicate with Rufus and Lucy. If they could somehow release the leverage without Emma knowing, it would deal a serious blow to Rittenhouse. The caveat though was making sure Lucy would be safe before they did it, which might require Rufus and Lucy to go back without him to protect Spitzer.

Either way, Wyatt was more certain than ever that he couldn't give Emma whatever was in that locker, _especially_ if it was as important as he suspected it to be.

* * *

"What did you find?" Connor Mason's voice rang from the computer speakers in Rufus' office half an hour later.

"We were definitely hacked," Jiya said, sharing her screen to show Mason the updated render of the energy trail, complete with linked CPU output in the corner. "As you can see, the Mothership stopped twice in in Valliant, Oklahoma in 1973 on their way home from 1681. Each of the visits were less than five minutes in length and eight minutes and twenty seconds apart. We would have had no idea if Emma hadn't…" Her eyes wide, she trailed off, realizing she'd said too much.

"Emma? You're in contact with Emma?" Connor asked, leaning closer to the screen. "Are you both alright?"

"Yes," Rufus answered honestly.

"And your families?"

"Fine."

"Care to explain?"

"Can't right now," Rufus said, hoping Mason wasn't going to ask any more questions. "I promise to tell you all about it later."

Mason sighed deeply. "I assume you'll be needing the Lifeboat?"

Both Rufus and Jiya nodded.

There was a loud chirp then, onscreen, Mason pulled out his phone and rolled his eyes. "Our security analysts. Apparently we were hacked," he deadpanned. "For all the money I pay them…" The rest of his words were lost in a clacking of a keyboard. "I have to go deal with this. The Lifeboat will be ready whenever you get here."

A second later, the video chat cut to black.

"So should we go?" Jiya asked, pushing away from the desk.

Rufus stared at her in disbelief. "You are not going."

"I haven't had an episode in months," Jiya fired back before turning to Lucy. "We know the exact time and location Emma jumped to. Somewhere in there she had to have knocked out Spitzer. If we go back just after she got there, we can cause a distraction, set him free, and generally stop Emma or her goons from hurting him."

"Is it wise to go without Wyatt?" Lucy asked, pointedly avoiding the argument between Rufus and Jiya. "Assuming the second jump was to pick up whatever security she left to ensure Spitzer didn't disappear between jumps, we might need his skills."

"Which is why I need to go with. I can take a .22," Jiya insisted.

"No way!" Rufus exclaimed. "We wait for Wyatt or Lucy and I go alone. You're not coming with."

"That might not be up to you," Jiya retorted, glaring daggers at Rufus.

Lucy cleared her throat, catching both of their attentions. "I think we need to at least touch base with Wyatt before we make a decision. He might have some useful information from his flight that can help us."

"We should be at MI though, in case we do decide to go," Jiya finally spoke up, in a much more subdued tone. "Wyatt has at least another twenty minutes of his flight. It's now or never."

Rufus scowled, gritted his teeth and went through four other stages of showing his displeasure with the whole plan before grounding out, "Fine. But we're taking the Fiesta." After Cahill had shut down Rufus' car remotely, the pilot had purchased a much more low-key car until the Rittenhouse fiasco died down. He hated every minute of driving it, but there was something to be said about his clear mental state by the time he reached his destination that made it all worth it.

He locked his computer so his brother couldn't accidentally close out any of his running searches, then left the room, Lucy and Jiya not far behind.

* * *

Just before the plane began to descend, Brock suddenly frowned, picked up the previously unused tablet on the table and typed furiously, his thumbs flying over the screen. Moments later, Henry appeared, sitting on the couch across from Wyatt, while the second man disappeared on the other side of the decorative wooden divider.

While the two were preoccupied with their swap, Wyatt yawned widely, kicking on the earpiece. He had no idea if they were close enough to the ground for the signal to register but he wasn't going to get another chance to inconspicuously turn on the ear bud for a while, considering they had to drive from the airfield to Pendleton. Plus, if anyone noticed the additional signal, it could be traced to the tablet in front of him.

Sadly, he heard nothing but silence on the other end of the comm.

As he was returning to his tablet, Wyatt spotted Henry scowling deeply out of the corner of his eye.

"What's going on?" he asked, immediately concerned about the safety of his team.

The guard just ignored him.

"It could be tactically relevant," he tried again. "I'd really rather not get arrested while trying to open Moran's locker."

"Nothing that concerns you or the mission," Henry finally said, pulling a hidden seatbelt over his waist as the plane tipped downward. "But if I were you, I'd also wash the blood off your face before we land."

Up until now, Wyatt had been so preoccupied with the mission that he hadn't given any consideration to what his face looked like after the original fight. And he still didn't care but he knew he would have an easier time pulling this whole mission off if he looked semi-respectable. "I'll be right back," he said, pushing himself to his feet and walking into the small bathroom.

He winced as he took in his disheveled appearance. On top of the angry red cut on his cheekbone and the dark circles under his eyes, he had at least four days' worth of stubble lining his jaw and his hair, which was usually cut to regulation, was curling over the tops of his ears. Needless to say, it had been a long week for him chasing Emma through time even before the Rittenhouse agent had shanghaied him.

"Anyone there?" Wyatt hissed as loudly as dared, after turning on the sink.

Unfortunately, there was still no response over the comms so there was nothing Wyatt could do now but try to make himself more presentable. He washed his face, then finger-combed his hair out of his eyes before dabbing with a wet paper towel at the most offending spots in his clothes, trying to straighten out a few wrinkles on will alone.

When he was done, he still looked sleep-deprived, but no longer like he was coming down from a bender.

The plane landed ten minutes later and Wyatt was escorted directly to the parking lot, where a nondescript red car sat next to another black SUV. Without a word, Henry got into the red car and drove away while Brock waited until Wyatt had climbed into the backseat of the SUV before getting in the driver's seat.

Wyatt assumed Emma would ride shotgun as she had earlier but, to his surprise, the pilot slid into the seat behind Brock. She tapped twice on his shoulder, then bent down, and pulled out a briefcase from under her seat.

"We will be parked down the block from the base," she began as she clicked open the briefcase. Wyatt leaned slightly left and was able to see a set of thick-rimmed glasses, a watch, a second tablet and a silver key card.

 _"He's back!"_ Lucy called so loudly Wyatt had to mask a wince.

She said more but Wyatt was forced to shift his attention away from the earbud as Emma continued speaking. "You will take the car to the main gate and directly to the self-storage unit, no detours." Then she picked up the glasses and held them out to him. "Those have a camera in them so we can monitor your progress. If at any time you deviate from the plan, Spitzer will be harmed."

Wyatt took the glasses from her and slid them on. He had been hoping to get away without any sort of monitoring device but a video-only feed wasn't the worst. He could still converse with his team without Emma finding out as long as he wasn't looking into any reflective surfaces.

 _"Glasses, huh?"_ Rufus said absently and the sound of typing intensified.

Emma then handed over a wristwatch. "That has an audio chip in it, so we ensure you don't alert the authorities."

Well there went that idea.

 _"Audio too?"_ Rufus cursed. _"You've got to be kidding me."_

Wyatt grudgingly unlatched his current watch, slid it into his pocket, and strapped the new one to his wrist. "Anything else?" he asked drily.

"No detours," Emma repeated before clicking on the tablet and checking the results of the audio and video feeds. Then she picked up the key card, flipped it between her fingers, and pocketed it.

 _"We found out exactly when Emma jumped,"_ Lucy said a beat later, when it was obvious Emma was done speaking. " _10:03 AM on August 10_ _th_ _, 1973 in Oklahoma. I know you can't answer directly but, if you get an opening, what should we do?"_

Wyatt wasn't sure his next question was going to get the answer Lucy wanted but it beared asking for multiple reasons. "What happens after I get you the contents of the locker?"

"I go on my merry way and Lucy lives."

The SUV turned down a familiar street and Wyatt knew they didn't have much time before they arrived at Pendleton. "And just how do I get out of San Diego?"

"You're a smart man Wyatt. I'll leave that to you."

As Emma was speaking, Wyatt spotted the same red Toyota that had been parked at the airfield sitting on the side of the road. While Henry got out of the car, Brock signaled then pulled off the road, parking the SUV just behind it.

"Keys are in the ignition," Emma said, looking over at Wyatt. "Let's get going."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I did research Camp Pendleton and procedures for getting on base but couldn't find exactly what I needed, so I borrowed from the movies. Please forgive me if it's inaccurate. I did try.**

* * *

 _"This sucks,"_ Rufus groused over the comms, a sentiment that was silently seconded by Wyatt as he waited in line at the San Luis Rey gate.

 _"What do we do? What is_ Wyatt _going to do? What if he has a plan and we're just supposed to know what it is from our snippets of conversation?"_

 _"Okay, okay,"_ Jiya intervened then there was some shuffling sounds in the background. _"We'll figure this out. He can hear us, which is better than nothing."_

The car in front of Wyatt was cleared and, as soon as it was through the boom barrier, the gate guard motioned for Wyatt to pull forward. The second he came to a stop, two guards began swirling his car, one with a K9 and another with an inspection mirror.

"ID," the first gate guard said, stopping an arm's reach outside the driver's side window. Wyatt handed over his CAC and the man stepped back into the guardhouse to examine it.

"Purpose on base?" he asked as he slid it under a black light.

"Emptying out my storage locker."

The guard took another long look at the CAC then handed it over. He waited until the Toyota was done being inspected before flicking the release for the gate. "Have a good day."

It was only after Wyatt turned the car down Vandergrift that he probably should have asked for a hat or something from Emma. Quite a few of his friends were still stationed here and he didn't want to be recognized, lest that pull him away from his mission. But it was too late to go back now. He'd have to keep his head down and hope that the glasses combined with his less-than-stellar appearance would serve as enough of a disguise.

It was a short drive from the gate to Camp Pendleton Self-Storage. Since he didn't have a PIN, Wyatt pulled into the parking spaces in front of the main office. While the car was still idling, he glanced briefly over his shoulder at the number pad, wondering if it was worth him trying a few common PINs and seeing if any worked, or waiting for someone else to come along and punch in their PIN. The keypad was in direct view of the office though so he figured either of those options was more likely to get the MPs called than just talking to the on-duty employee himself.

So Wyatt killed the engine, pushed his fingers through his hair again, then went in.

The office's only occupant was an older man sitting behind the desk doing some sort of puzzle. He looked up when Wyatt walked in, his gaze sharp and calculating.

"I'm here to get into unit 170," Wyatt said, approaching the counter.

"Put in your pin and drive in yourself," the man said as he pointed to the number pad outside the office.

"I don't remember what it is."

The man pushed his puzzle away and pulled over the computer keyboard. "I can look it up if you have your ID."

Wyatt leaned his forearms on the counter. "See that's the thing. It's not my locker."

The man's brow furrowed, his hand reaching for the firearm at his waist. "Well then I definitely can't let you in there."

"Hold on," Wyatt interjected, hands held at his shoulders to show he meant no harm. "Let me explain."

The man stared at him for a long moment before nodding. "You have thirty seconds."

"Charlie Moran lived across the street from me growing up. I just heard he died this morning. His wife asked me to come get his stuff for him. That's it, I swear. Just whatever is in locker 170…I'll even show you my ID so if something else goes missing you know who to call." When he received no objection, Wyatt slowly pulled his wallet from his pocket, flipped it open to his driver's license and handed it over. "I just…really want to get whatever's in there for her, you know? She's going through a lot right now, doesn't need the stress of all this."

The employee took the wallet from Wyatt and carefully examined the ID.

"My CAC is in there too," the soldier added after a moment, trying to sell the fact he belonged here, even though his appearance looked anything but.

The man looked between Wyatt and his ID several times. Then he tapped on his keyboard, his expression unreadable. "You're not with those _Storage Wars_ people, are you?"

Wyatt shook his head. "Definitely not. Just here to empty out a friend's locker."

 _"And we're live_ , _"_ Rufus cheered excitedly. _"Video feed hacked so we're seeing what you're seeing."_

 _"Starting on the audio now,"_ Jiya added.

The man at the desk nodded absently, then returned to his computer, keeping half an eye on Wyatt over the monitor. "Normally I'd try to call the number on file but, in this case, there isn't one." He again stared at Wyatt for a long few minutes and the time traveler tried to keep his expression as earnest and trustworthy as possible.

"Okay kid," the employee finally said. "I'll let you in. _But_ I've seen your ID and you've been caught on both cameras in case I need to find you later."

Wyatt nodded. "Thank you, sir. I really appreciate it."

"You don't have the key, do you?"

Wyatt shook his head.

The man sighed and pulled out a ring of keys. "Follow me."

* * *

Whitman, according to the badge clipped to his belt, led Wyatt to the outdoor storage lockers, inserted the key into the padlock for #170 with some trouble, then pulled up the gate a foot or two.

"Remember you're on camera," he reminded Wyatt before he began to slowly step backward.

"Understood," the soldier said with a nod.

He waited until Whitman was at the end of the aisle before bending down and pulling up the gate completely.

 _"That's it?"_ Rufus questioned in disbelief. _"A desk?"_

Wyatt pulled the watch up to his mouth. "It looks like it's just a desk with some sort of package on it," he reported to Emma, even though he wouldn't be able to hear any acknowledgement. "Heading in now."

He took a look around the opening, checking for tripwires or other assorted alarm systems. Finding none, he carefully stepped in.

It was obvious from the musty stench that the storage locker didn't get a lot of visitors. Wyatt held a hand over his nose as he made his way to the center of the room where a large wooden desk sat with exactly one manila envelope on its surface.

It wasn't until Wyatt was standing in front of the desk that he saw a five-dollar bill and a small sticky note attached to the envelope, which was already addressed. The note read, "In case I don't pay, please mail. I've included $5 in case postage increases."

Without touching the package, Wyatt took a quick look around the locker, even the ceiling, but didn't see any signs of disturbance indicating a second hiding spot.

"It looks like it's just the package," Wyatt said loudly enough for Emma to hear. "I'm going to check the desk though, just to be sure."

With that, he began examining the desk for any additional security measures or secret compartments.

 _"That address is the New York Times,"_ Jiya spoke up as Wyatt ducked into the crawlspace.

 _"So I think it's safe to say that whatever is in this package is something about the existence of Rittenhouse?"_ Rufus ventured. _"I mean, I'm just guessing here but if Moran was Rittenhouse then Emma wouldn't have to work so hard to get to it. Unless he was spying from the inside which basically puts him on our side. So it's got to be something very detrimental to Rittenhouse."_

That was pretty much the same conclusion Wyatt had come to earlier on his very limited information set from Emma. Even though he couldn't respond, he was glad they were on the same page. It would make any future communications (should he find an opening) that much more efficient.

By this time, Wyatt had finished checking the exterior of the desk and began carefully pulling out the drawers, all of which were empty.

"It really is just the package," he reported.

 _"What do you want us to do, Wyatt?"_ Lucy asked. _"We can't give Emma that envelope."_

Internally cursing Emma and her audio device, Wyatt could only scowl in frustration. He hated the idea of Rufus and Lucy going back alone, since one of them was going to have to face Henry in order to free Spitzer. However, they didn't have a choice if the alternative was handing over the envelope to Emma.

Wyatt again cursed the lack of a B Team. He'd be having a serious conversation with Christopher about that as soon as he got back.

 _"Wyatt? We know your audio is being monitored. Give us some sort of sign if you want us to wait. If we just hear silence, we'll go back."_

As much as it killed him to do so, Wyatt remained silent.

 _"Are you sure? Stay silent again if you're sure."_

Wyatt pretended to examine a seam in the desk with great concentration. "It's nothing," he finally reported to Emma, lest she think he was intentionally stalling. Then, since he was now out of stalling tactics, he checked around the package one more time then picked it up and announced, "I'm on my way out."

Tucking the package under his arm, he walked out of the unit, locked it, then headed to his car, only pausing to wave at Whitman when he passed.

As he drove off base, there was some sort of chatter in the comms but it wasn't clear enough for Wyatt to make out. Then Jiya spoke up, _"They're running through the final checks. I'm still here though if you need anything."_

Still unable to respond, Wyatt could only send silent reminders to Rufus and Lucy to be smart and play their strengths, instead of trying to take on Henry directly.

* * *

Once he saw the SUV still parked in the shoulder, he made a U-turn then pulled in behind it, taking a split second to look at the back of the van while he turned off the engine.

 _"Running the plate now,"_ Jiya informed him.

He sat for as long as he could in the car, trying to buy Rufus and Lucy some time, but after a minute, Henry got out of the SUV and began walking toward him, one hand reaching into the left side of his jacket.

"Get out of the car," he ordered.

Wyatt reluctantly did so, holding the package high in his right hand. "Where is Emma?" he asked as Henry came closer.

"That's no concern of yours."

"It is," Wyatt countered, pulling the package just out of Henry's reach. "I need confirmation both Lucy and Spitzer are safe."

 _"Lucy is still here, Wyatt. She's okay,"_ Jiya said but that wasn't super helpful since, if Emma was still sitting in the SUV, she hadn't had time to go back and change things.

"I need to speak to Emma," Wyatt said more firmly, but Henry just stepped closer, reaching for the package yet again. Unfortunately, he was still too far out of reach for Wyatt to act, especially since Henry's hand was literally on the grip of his gun. But with Rufus and Lucy practically on their way, it was a chance Wyatt was comfortable taking if the situation presented itself.

"Package now. I won't ask again," the Rittenhouse henchman said and Wyatt heard an ominous click emanating from the inside of the jacket.

 _"They're still here, Wyatt,"_ Jiya said. _"They're still running the checks. It's taking longer than usual because of the hack."_

It took everything Wyatt had to keep his frustration out of his expression. With Rufus and Lucy still in the present, it was too risky to double-cross Emma, especially since he wasn't sure she was still in the present. As much as it pained him to do so, he had to hand the package over and hope they could get it back before Emma did any serious damage with it.

Every fiber in Wyatt's body protested but he did hold out the envelope, Henry quickly taking it.

"This is all there was?"

Wyatt nodded. "I did what you asked," he then said. "Now I need assurances Spitzer will be fine. Where. Is. Emma."

"You're going to have to trust us," Henry replied, seconds before he pulled out his gun and started firing.

Years of finely honed reflexes had Wyatt moving before the gun was completely visible. He dove behind the Toyota as the first two rounds whizzed over his head. Unfortunately, the third connected with his calf before he could pull in his legs.

His hand immediately went to the area, finding not a trail of blood but a dart of some sort. As his vision tilted dangerously, he managed to pull the offending object from his leg but it was too late—the damage had already been done.

 _"Wyatt, what's happening?"_ Someone demanded over the comms but he didn't have time to answer.

He heard footsteps marching around the car and he tried to roll under it with his last vestiges of strength but his limbs were stiff and uncooperative.

He gathered all his remaining strength and slurred out, "Go," for Rufus and Lucy. There was no other option. They had to go back, make sure Spitzer survived. They were resourceful, they'd think of something.

There was a response over the comms but, before Wyatt could make sense of it, his world faded to black.


	7. Chapter 7

"Wyatt!"

Ice ran through Lucy's veins when she heard Jiya scream the soldier's name. The historian was out of the Lifeboat in a second, scrambling for the earbud she'd left on the stairs. With Rufus' in Jiya's ear to maintain contact with Wyatt, it hadn't made sense for her to travel back to 1973 with her singular comm; plus Rufus wasn't sure if it would somehow disturb the existing signal so she hadn't taken the chance.

She quickly stuffed it back into her ear, only hearing background noises: running footsteps, a car screeching into gear.

"What's happening?" Rufus said, from over her shoulder.

Lucy looked back, eyes wide with panic, before turning her gaze to Jiya

"Since you hadn't left yet, he handed over the package," the female tech explained. "Then, he got hit by a dart of some sort. Maybe a tranq? I didn't get a good look before he turned away."

Lucy sprinted down the temporary stairs and back up to the mezzanine. "Do we still have the feed from his glasses?"

"Yes, but it's nothing useful." Jiya stopped typing long enough to point to a monitor to her right, which held a tilted view of the road to Pendleton. The glasses were obviously still transmitting judging by the minor changes in scenery but no useful sights or sounds were resonating from it or the bug in Wyatt's watch. "Just empty road."

Before Lucy could speak again, Denise Christopher walked over. "What are you still doing here?" the Homeland agent demanded. "You need to be heading back to 1973."

Long ago, Lucy had stopped being surprised by the vastness of Christopher's network and how the woman tended to appear at the right time, without being notified. "Wyatt's in trouble," Lucy stated, clasping her hands together to stop the shaking.

"And so are you if you don't go on your trip," Christopher responded, gesturing at the waiting Lifeboat.

"We are _not_ —"

"You don't have a choice," Christopher interrupted, her tone leaving no room for argument. "If you don't save Spitzer now, you're leaving a ten minute window in 1973 for someone to take advantage of later on. _You_ can't take that risk, especially now that Emma has whatever was in that locker."

Deep down, Lucy knew the Homeland agent was right but she still couldn't justify leaving Wyatt, not after everything they'd been through together.

"I'll call SDPD and have them send an ambulance. Jiya and I will stay on the comm in case he comes around. But you need to go."

"Lucy," Rufus said from behind her. "Christopher's right."

Lucy hated the whole situation and now herself for making this choice, but she nodded and followed Rufus to the Lifeboat.

They had been fully dressed since arriving at MI and the team had been preparing the Lifeboat since their last call to Mason. Given the hack, Mason had ordered the Lifeboat to be inspected by two separate parties, which was the only reason they hadn't been allowed to leave when Wyatt had suggested it. While Lucy was thankful for the effort (she had no desire to get stuck in 1973 and run the risk of breaking the timeline by running into herself in ten years), she needed them to hurry.

"It's ready," a tech named Jason said four achingly long minutes later.

Rufus immediately began the launch procedure while Lucy fumbled with the bulky buckles of her seat belt. She couldn't help staring at the empty seat across from her, praying Wyatt was alright.

* * *

The Lifeboat set down in 1973 at exactly the same time as the Mothership's first arrival. However, despite reading the maps ahead of time, by the time Lucy and Rufus arrived at the alley Spitzer had mentioned walking past, the man in question was already unconscious and Emma had taken a photograph of him and her new assistant. As Emma walked off to the right, Henry immediately started dragging Spitzer from the alleyway into an empty storefront.

Rufus rose up from their hiding spot, ready to follow Emma, but Lucy tugged him back down. As much as she disliked Emma, the female pilot was not their target for this mission.

"What's our play?" Rufus asked Lucy, now that they had a sense of their surroundings.

"Distract Emma's goon, then save Spitzer."

"Great. More specific?"

"One of us gets his attention, the other sneaks around back and gets Spitzer out. Then we have Spitzer file a police report so Emma can't go after him so easily anymore."

"Can't we just call the cops and have them deal with it?"

"We can't get Emma's guy arrested."

Rufus blinked. "Why the hell not?"

"Think about it. What would you do if your boss left you forty years in the past?"

Rufus exhaled slowly. "I see your point. So we leave him for Emma to come pick up." He nodded more animatedly after a moment. "That explains the second trip. She left the gap in between so she could come back if Wyatt didn't do as she asked." Then he paused for a split second. "We need to go now though, to limit the time she can come back to."

Lucy nodded as she took a quick peek out of the alleyway they were hiding in. "Front or back?"

"Can you pick a lock?" Rufus queried, receiving a head shake in response. "So I'll take the back, you distract him."

Lucy nodded again. "Be careful, okay?" she added as Rufus stood to leave.

"You too," the pilot replied before he crossed the street and disappeared into the alley behind the storefront Henry was hiding out in.

Lucy waited another beat then crossed the street herself. She walked up to the large front door and knocked determinedly when it refused to open. "Hello?" she called out, loud enough to be heard in the back of the store. She waited a few seconds then knocked harder and longer.

After almost a minute, Emma's henchman finally cracked open the wooden front door. "We're closed," he growled, quickly pulling his head back into the building.

"I know, but," Lucy paused to actually scan the name of the store before continuing, "I really need to speak to my accountant. I just got a phone call from the IRS saying they were gonna audit me."

Behind the henchman, she could see Rufus sneaking in, finger held to his lips.

"—and I can't get a hold of my husband," Lucy continued, practically yelling with a frustration that wasn't as fake as it was meant to be. "And they're coming by tomorrow. And I just really need to talk—"

That's when their plan fell apart. Rufus was carrying Spitzer out the back hallway but hadn't turned enough to account for the man's swinging legs, which cracked painfully against the wall.

Emma's goon turned around, hand reaching for the holster at his waist, and, for once, Lucy didn't think; she just reacted. She swung the heavy door closed with all her might, crashing it right into the goon's head. The man collapsed to the ground while Lucy quickly stepped into the accounting firm, pulling the door closed behind her for good measure. The door connected with the goon's head for a second time and he immediately slacked into unconsciousness.

"What the hell was that?" she hissed at Rufus, pulling out the henchman's gun and pointing it at him with a shaking hand.

"He's heavy," the tech fired back.

He had just readjusted Spitzer and taken another step down the hallway when Lucy stopped him. "Just wake him up here," she suggested, "so we can keep an eye on this one." She tilted the barrel of the gun at the unconscious henchman.

With some difficulty, Rufus leaned Spitzer against the wall then, after scanning the room, filled a cup at the water cooler and threw it on Spitzer's face. The man straightened up, sputtering, eyes filled with terror as they landed on Rufus. A beat later, he was on his feet and swinging at the pilot.

"We're the good guys," Rufus cried, ducking under Spitzer's punch.

"Shh," Lucy hissed as Emma's goon twitched.

"We saw that guy knock you out," Rufus explained in as calm a tone as he could manage while pointing furiously to Emma's henchman, "and followed him to see if we could help."

Spitzer seemed to recognize the truth in this for he stopped swinging. "We should call the police," he stated, rubbing at the back of his head.

"Yes," Rufus replied but was cut off by Lucy saying, "Not exactly."

"What do you mean 'not exactly'?" Spitzer demanded.

"The situation is complicated. He's—"

"Wanted by the FBI," Rufus chimed in when Lucy's excuse faltered. "We're consultants," he added, pointedly ignoring Spitzer's look of disbelief. "So you need to report your attack to the police and describe this guy, but we'll take him into our custody and coordinate with the LEOs later."

Spitzer didn't look entirely convinced but eventually he nodded.

"You need to go straight to the police," Lucy reiterated. "It's very important you report this right away, before the rest of his crew strikes."

Sptizer's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline as he nodded. "Okay, I'll go right now."

He took a step toward the front door but Rufus grabbed his shoulders and swung him toward the back. "That way. And thank you."

As soon as he was gone, Lucy began stepping back toward Rufus. "Let's get out of her before he wakes up."

The pilot nodded, then a beat later, they headed for the door as fast as they could.

* * *

Exactly one second after returning to consciousness, Wyatt lurched upright. Or well, he tried to, before two people wearing brightly colored vests held him down.

"Master Sergeant Logan, I need you to calm down," one of them said. "Agent Denise Christopher says to tell you it's being handled and that all you need to worry about is getting checked out at the hospital."

Wyatt relaxed just long enough for the two women to release him. Then he tried to force himself to his feet. "I'm—" was all he managed before the world tilted and he was sent reaching for the side of the ambulance...which he was standing inside of.

Crap.

"We don't know what you were injected with or how your body is reacting to it," the second EMT said from over Wyatt's right shoulder, trying to gently escort him back to the gurney. "We need to run some tests—"

"My team is out there," Wyatt shot back, rubbing at his forehead with the back of his hand. "I need to go."

"Agent Christopher said you might say that," the blond EMT said as she handed over her cell phone. "She also said the only way to get you to calm down was for you to call her directly."

Wyatt nodded gratefully at the woman, grabbing again at a protruding shelf when the world tilted, then dialed Christopher.

"Are you alright?" the Homeland agent demanded before Wyatt could speak up.

"I'm fine. How are Rufus and Lucy?" Then Wyatt paused, white hot fear shooting through his system. "You _do_ know who Lucy Preston is, right?"

"I do. She's one-third of our time travelling team, currently back in 1973 with pilot Rufus Carlin."

That was good enough for Wyatt. "How long have they been gone?" he asked, accepting the bottle of water the EMT held out and downing half of it in one swig.

"Ten minutes. And, before you ask, we don't know when they'll be back."

Not ideal but he wasn't going to get a better answer in the near future. "Where is Emma?" he asked, switching subjects.

"There's an APB out on her SUV and all private planes in the San Diego area have been grounded until the passengers are searched."

A memory floated up through the light fog in Wyatt's brain. "I have the N-number," he said, immediately racking off the registration number of the plane he, Emma, Henry and Brock had taken to San Diego.

"Jiya?" Christopher asked.

"Searching it now," the female tech responded in the background.

"How—"

"We'll get Emma, Wyatt," Christopher gently interrupted. "Before she hurts Spitzer. I firmly believe that."

Then one of the EMTs was tugging on his sleeve. "Now that you've been assured your team is fine, we really need to check you out, Master Sergeant Logan."

"List to the poor woman," Christopher ordered. "And when you're done, you can catch the next flight out of SAN, any airline. Mason's already cleared you."

"You'll call me—"

"Of course." Then, she hung up.

Wyatt wiped off the EMT's phone on his shirt then handed it back. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," the woman said, as she slid it into her pocket. "Now please sit down, so we can get going to the airport."

Smiling thankfully for the strings that were being pulled to get him back to San Francisco, Wyatt did as he was told.

* * *

When Wyatt walked out of the security checkpoint at SFO two hours later, Rufus and Lucy were waiting for him. He picked up the pace and pulled both Lucy and Rufus into a semi-awkward, but well-intentioned hug.

"You're okay," he breathed, in Lucy's general direction. Rufus had the foresight to slip out of the hug, allowing Wyatt and Lucy their pseudo-private moment, between the flight's other passengers who were pushing past them to get on the escalator.

"So are you," she replied, the pad of her thumb lightly brushing past the cut on his cheek.

"I'm fine," he said with a breathy laugh, catching her hand in his. "How's Spitzer?"

"Totally fine. At 10:13 AM, he walked into the police station, filed a report and even sat down with a sketch artist. Apparently he wasn't ever bothered again."

"So you're safe."

She nodded, then pulled him into another hug.

As much as Wyatt hated to ruin the moment, he had to find out what was happening with their search for Emma.

"Oh, she's in custody," Rufus said with a wide grin.

Wyatt stared at him blankly. "Whose custody?"

"Homeland."

Wyatt was pretty sure his jaw hit the floor. " _How_?"

"They evaded the mandatory search but airport security and SDPD stopped their plane from taking off. They're at some black site now, being debriefed."

It took a minute for Wyatt's brain to process that statement. He would never have expected that their mission to stop Emma would have ended so quickly, in the present, no less.

"And the envelope?"

"Christopher has it." Rufus shook his head sadly. "I didn't even get to see what was in it."

"What are they going to do with it?"

"I don't think she's sure yet, but she and Mason are confident they'll come up with something."

Wyatt grinned so widely his injured cheekbone began to ache. "C'mon," he said, gently pushing Rufus and Lucy toward the escalator. "Let's get out of here."

* * *

 **Epilogue:**

Emma Whitmore was sitting in a small metal room, chained to a small metal table, her ankles attached to a metal ring soldered into the floor. She tapped her fingers anxiously against the table, the reverb the only sound in an otherwise completely silent room.

Sometime later, she heard footsteps approaching but didn't look up, not interested in the agent-of-the-hour they had been sending in to interrogate her. She knew she'd technically screwed up by allowing the package to get into Rufus and co.'s hands but she was banking her survival on her ability to pilot the Mothership. Anthony was dead and, last she'd heard, Rittenhouse hadn't had a chance to train anyone else. Rufus and his girlfriend were the only other viable options, if Rittenhouse left her here.

The door to the room opened and the footsteps entered.

She yawned, faking disinterest, cracking her jaw loudly in the process. She looked over at the newcomer then immediately straightened up when she recognized the elderly man standing in her cell.

"This was not the outcome we'd hoped for," the man began, looking disapprovingly at her.

"I know sir, and I'm sorry. But I had time with the package and I can tell you what was in it—"

The man held up a hand, silencing her plea. "For better or worse, you are irreplaceable," he said with a slight scowl. "And so you've been freed." He tossed her a ring of keys and she quickly opened the handcuffs connecting her to the table then the shackles securing her to the floor.

"Thank you sir."

"Don't thank me yet," the man said, motioning for them to start walking. "You have exactly one more chance to retrieve that package," he said as they entered the hallway. "Mess up and we don't care how capable of an agent you had been for us."

"I understand, sir," Emma said, sidestepping the body of a Homeland agent.

"And you will be training an understudy how to fly the Mothership," the man continued.

"Of course, sir."

They walked through the rest of the compound in silence, the elderly man only speaking again once they arrived at two identical, nondescript cars in a makeshift parking lot. Henry and Brock were standing in front of one, looking no worse for the wear than they'd been one day ago.

"Please do not make me regret this, Emma," the man said, climbing into the passenger's seat of one.

"No sir," she said, as the car pulled away, leaving a cloud of dirt in its wake. "I guarantee it."

* * *

 **And that's the end of _A Matter of Time_! Special thanks to you-cant-just-import-answer on Tumblr who storyboarded the whole idea with me and to MoparGirl1 on Fanfiction who cheerread a rough draft when I was struggling to get past the airplane scene.**

 **I hope you enjoyed and sincerely can't wait until this show comes back in summer 2018!**

 **Thanks for reading! I'd love to know what you thought!**

 **usa123**


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